“He’s not a man, Your Highness,” Fenir said, owlish eyes nearly popping out from his head. “He’s a vampire, one I’ve also heard of before. He’s Nieve’s sanguinary plaything.”
Nosficio lifted his chin. “If I am, as you say, Nieve’s plaything, I would then have tremendous insight into the Queen, the King, and the Glacial Palace. And not to worry, dear Witan, I already ate this morning.”
No one moved. The two councilmen hovering near the door behind the guards seemed ready to wet their pants.
Marai released a grumbling sigh. “If he tries anything, I’ll kill him.”
Nosficio grinned at her, but Marai’s statement eased some of the Steward’s concern.
Holfast turned to a guard standing protectively at his side. “Please procure another chair for our . . . guest.”
The guard hesitated, then grabbed one of the spare wooden chairs lined against the wall. He placed the chair next to Marai, and Nosficio took a slow, purposeful seat.
“Then, Emissary, let us return to the problem at hand,” Holfast continued. The two men who stood returned to their seats, but their rears barely touched the cushions, as if ready to bolt again. “We cannot send our prince to Grelta, but we do need their soldiers. We shall send an ambassador in the prince’s stead.”
“I will go,” said one of the quieter men at the table. He then addressed Ruenen. “I used to be Ambassador to Grelta, back when Nevandia had better political standing. I still receive friendly correspondence from several Greltan council members.”
“Thank you, Lord Goso—” Holfast said.
“Nieve won’t accept an ambassador,” Nosficio said, and all heads swiveled to him. “For something as major as a wartime alliance, she expects to be treated with respect. She’ll only negotiate with Prince Ruenen. She made that clear in her letter.”
“Then she’s being unreasonable,” shouted Vorae. Beads of sweat dappled his brow. “We’ll send Lord Goso, and she will negotiate with him. We don’t have time to send His Highness to Grelta.”
“But if Lord Goso fails, what then?” asked Keshel.
Nosficio regarded him with interest; Ruenen watched the vampire sniff the air in Keshel’s direction.
“We’ll have wasted more valuable time trying to strengthen our forces, to come away with nothing. If a meeting must be held, it must be done immediately, and to the queen’s specifications. Rayghast could strike us at any time. We need those soldiers now.” For someone who was sitting in on his first war council, Keshel certainly knew what to say. A few murmurs traveled up and down the table. “Nevandia is desperate. Sometimes, drastic measures must be taken.”
This last sentence was said sharply. Ruenen didn’t miss his meaning. Allying with faeries and vampires was certainly a drastic measure for a kingdom who abhorred magical folk. Most of the Witan had taken significant convincing to be in the same room as Marai and Keshel.
“I can take them,” said Marai. “I’ll take Prince Ruenen and Lord Goso to the Glacial Palace and back.”
Vorae scoffed. “That doesn’t solve the problem of time–”
“It does if it takes a mere moment to get there.”
The table hushed. Next to Marai, Keshel stiffened and shot her a silent warning. The muscles in Ruenen’s stomach constricted. She wasn’t really going to tell them, was she?
“What do you mean?” Holfast asked.
“I can create a portal between here and Grelta. It’s as easy as stepping through a doorway.”
“You can . . . create a doorway between two places?” asked Fenir, arching a dark eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware faeries had that kind of magic.”
“We don’t,” said Keshel. “Only Marai. She’s . . . unusual.”
Nosficio stared at Marai openly. Ruenen saw a flash of surprise in the vampire’s eyes, but it was gone when Holfast continued to speak.
“You can safely transport multiple people in this portal?”
Marai nodded. “Prince Ruenen and I have crossed the threshold between space several times together.” She glanced at him and heat crept across Ruenen’s skin. “And I brought all of my people through the door when we arrived here. It’s quite safe.”
“Sounds unholy, to me . . .” whispered a councilman snidely to another.
“The North will know, then, that we’re housing magical creatures,” Vorae said. “If we reveal the fae, they may refuse to work with us.”
Nosficio cleared his throat. “The queen is more open-minded than you give her credit for. She’ll be intrigued by Lady Marai’s magic, not disgusted, as many of you so plainly are.”
Vorae and Fenir shot the vampire a seething glance, which Nosficio basked in like the sun he never could.
“Lord Goso, you must accompany His Highness,” said Holfast. Goso bowed his head in agreement. “Commander Avilyard, we will also require several of your men for added protection.”
“Yes, my lord, I shall pick my best in the King’s Guard. Since Lady Marai will be present, I’m certain the prince will be well-protected under her watchful eye and skillful hands,” Avilyard said.
Ruenen snapped his head towards Avilyard. Since when had the Nevandian commander seen Marai at work? Although, she did have very skilled hands . . .
“Your Highness should compose a response to Queen Nieve, stating you’ll be there in a week,” said Holfast.
“Tomorrow evening,” Nosficio retorted.
“That doesn’t give our courier enough time to deliver the letter,” Holfast said dryly.
“I’ll take it, then,” Nosficio said, receiving murmurs and grimaces from the Witan. “I am, after all, fleet-footed, as His Highness aptly said. If I leave soon, I can get to Grelta by morning, and Nieve will have time to prepare for your arrival without making too much of a fuss.”
“How can we trust you?” asked Vorae through squinted, judgmental eyes.
“You don’t have much of a choice, Honorable Councilman,” Nosficio said with a slick smile.
